


Allusions To (things we thought we knew)

by Cinnamonbookworm



Series: allusions [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Part II, and are giant nerds, arrow season 4 spoilers, barry and felicity being friends who share stuff, but also confide in each other and make us all really sad, the flash season 2 spoilers, updates after both episodes air each week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 16:49:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4968688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamonbookworm/pseuds/Cinnamonbookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>al·lu·sion /əˈlo͞oZHən/ | noun | an expression designed to call something to mind without mentioning it explicitly; an indirect or passing reference.<br/>Barry Allen and Felicity Smoak are hopelessly in love. And everybody knows it.<br/>Just not with each other.<br/>And things with Iris and Oliver are more complicated than they've ever been.<br/><i>Chapter 1: Tabula Rasa: Barry and Felicity find their way back to each other after the events of 4x01 and 2x01.</i><br/><i>Chapter 2: Pyrrhic Victory: post 4x02 and 2x02, some victories are worth it. others... not so much</i><br/><i>Chapter 3: Bona Fide: post 2x03 and 4x03, trust is something they're both still figuring out</i><br/><i>Chapter 5: Pearl of Great Price: post 2x06 and 4x06, Barry and Felicity deal with the people most precious to them.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tabula Rasa

**Author's Note:**

> so yes! allusions is back! this was technically supposed to go up last night but i got stomach flu and was totally out of it for like 24 hours so here it is! i hope this lives up to the hype of the last series since i know how much you all enjoyed that one. reading allusions to (my love for you) and sense of psyche are not required but recommended (and besides, they're pretty fun). i hope you all enjoy diving back into the world of barry and felicity as much as i have, because this train isn't stopping very soon.  
> also, if you follow me on tumblr, you know my url is darhkfelicity, which goes along with the theory that damien darhk is felicity's dad. there are little hints of that in here, but i'm not going to do anything outright unless it's proven true. just keep an eye out for that sort of stuff!

Tabula Rasa

{latin for _blank slate_ } {originates from the roman tabula, which was a wax tablet students in ancient rome used to take notes. blankness was achieved by heating the wax and smoothing it over}

 

Iris has been haunting his dreams.

She may not be upset with him in real life, but she is in his dreams, because _he let Eddie die_ and _how could she ever forgive him for that?_

So he takes her verbal beat-down, every night, and then gives him a similar one when he wakes up in the morning. _It builds character,_ he thinks, and tries to convince himself that that means something more than just a quote from Calvin and Hobbes.

But it’s not her words that hurt him when he’s awake.

She is painfully beautiful. The kind that it’s hard to think about. So he doesn’t. Think about it, that is. And it’s hard, it’s hard to turn off such a basic part of him, but he has to, he _needs to_ , for his own sanity. He’s going insane. She’s driving him crazy.

So he makes it stop. Makes it stop like he should’ve long ago, and it feels like his entire life has been a dream and he’s just now waking up.

And real life sucks. Truly and terribly.

Real life is Eddie and Ronnie dead and Caitlin gone. Real life is getting praise for things he neither did nor deserves. Real life is the feeling of guilt crushing down on his chest until he’s sure he can’t breathe. And he wants to call out and ask Caitlin and Cisco whether or not this immense pain in his heart is real or if he’s imagining it until he remembers he can’t because they’re not here anymore.

Caitlin left.

He sent Cisco away.

Cisco and Stein and Joe and Iris. Even Iris.

Iris whose voice is sometimes the only thing that can remind him what parts of this supposedly “real” life are true and which are false.

Like sometimes, sometimes he stands in the ruins of Jitters and wonders if this is all just some horrible nightmare and if one day he’s going to wake up and Iris will be standing breathless on the rubbled rooftop, dark hair blowing in her face and threatening to tickle his if he would just step closer.

He can’t step closer.

(He never could).

And now he’s not going to get the chance to, because Iris is too good for him. Iris deserves the happiness and the normalcy and everything that Eddie offered her, everything she accepted from him, everything that Barry caused her to lose. It was his sacrifice to make. Not Eddie’s.

(And definitely not Iris’).

So he looks at the rubble around him and wonders if maybe this should be what he rebuilds next. Maybe it’ll help him capture the warm and forgiving memories of things that took place here. Because this place has been a beacon of sanctuary for him long before the lightning struck. Even now, he can see the ghosts of the things that he took for granted. Little things. Things that are so much more important in hindsight.

(Laughing with Cisco and Caitlin about his date with Linda as they compare first date stories)

(Iris sneaking a cronut to try and make him understand what about the pastries have gotten her so addicted)

(Felicity, in red, with hair like a 50’s Hollywood starlet, telling him about good people, with good hearts) (she probably didn't’ even realize that that doesn’t apply to him. Not anymore).

(Eddie, running to hug him, apologizing for something that was not his fault because he’s inherently right in his soul) (Caitlin’s little wink at him afterwards).

(Oliver, with the sun shining on him fully for the first time Barry has seen it, managing a smile in the middle of chaos) (Agreeing to work with him, acting like his smile has nothing to do with the cup of coffee and the girl across from it at the table he just came from).

(Iris, hands intertwined in his, smiling as he tells her to _stop thinking and start doing_ ) (He’s still amazed she forgave him for that).

“You know, if you ever decided that you didn’t want to be the Flash, you have a good future at being a contractor.”

(Speaking of Iris).

“Yeah, I’m just trying to put it all back exactly how it was before...”

He’s talking about more than just the destroyed coffee shop. He’s talking about everything. Because he knows everything else in his life is far too damaged for him to repair it that way. But maybe if he gets this right. This place of sanctuary. Maybe if he just puts this place back exactly how it was it’ll be like pressing a reset button. Maybe then the hollowness in Iris and Caitlin’s eyes might finally disappear.

Maybe then he’ll get his blank slate. His start over. His _tabula rasa._

“Seems like a lot of local businesses are being rebuilt at night…” she gives him a look, “in secret.”

Of course she knows. She’s always known him too well. Maybe he’s been too obvious, repairing places that mean something to him first, places like their old school, the apartment building he used to live in… here.

She continues on, about articles and her job but he knows that’s not why she’s here. Just because her job has been all she’s been able to talk about since Eddie died doesn’t mean it’s all she cares about. She’s like him. Iris buried herself in her work and he buried himself in this and maybe they’re hoping to find some normalcy in restoring it to others. Nothing quite says _everything will be okay_ like your favorite coffee shop being rebuilt and your favorite reporter doing a piece on it.

She’s here to talk him into going to the stupid thing the mayor is doing. The thing he doesn’t deserve, doesn’t want, but is getting anyway, because the Flash is so much greater than just him now. It’s something else. And he tells her that, and maybe it’s harsh, reminding her of who were the real heroes that day, but she needs to hear the truth from him on this. For once, someone needs to stop telling him he saved the day.

Because he didn’t.

“You should know that, better than anyone.”

He doesn’t want to hurt her but he will if he thinks it will make her understand what it is he’s trying to do by avoiding all this. He’s trying to separate himself from the mantle of _hero._ It’s reserved for Eddie and Ronnnie. It’s not his place to take. He’d thought Iris would appreciate that.

She gives him a flyer. And says she believes in him.

(Maybe he’ll go. If only just for her).

He goes.

He scans the crowd for Iris, looking for her and only her, because she is his lifeline, his lightning rod, and none of this makes sense without her there.

There was once a time when he would’ve given anything to see Iris chanting “Flash! Flash! Flash!” but now the steady pulse of her chant sounds like a death march, a clock ticking down, the steady beat of the failing heartbeat they never got to hear.

Eddie’s the real hero of Central City. Not him. Eddie’s Iris’ real hero. He doesn’t even come close. But Iris is here anyways. Beautiful, lovely Iris. Still supporting him, even after all this time. What has he ever done to deserve her?

Things fly. People get hurt. But Iris doesn’t run, she stays. She stays even afterwards, refusing to give up on him like he wishes she would. She’s there, in STAR Labs, crawling her way into every crevice of him, filling his body with warmth again.

Because of her, he is saved.

Because of Wells, his dad is saved.

(Funny how life works that way) (funny how saviors can come from the most unexpected places).

Iris is warm in his arms. Warm and soft and just the right mix of comfort and everything else he craves. Everything else he’s been pushing away for months now. He’d forgotten how much he needs this, needs her.

And she seems happy. She’s happy because he’s happy. Iris, the one who had always believed that his father was innocent. Always known, right from the start, that this would be the endgame someday. That they would get here, be here. The journey to here may have been so much more than unexpected, but his dad is free and Iris is in his arms and this frankly feels really good.

She feels really good.

They feel really good.

And suddenly he’s reminded of the other endgame. And not just because Cisco is talking about the changes he’d made to the suit. Gideon was right, in the end, things are changing, and somehow, some way, that newspaper is going to show up.

The newspaper with Iris West-Allen.

The newspaper about his death.

And maybe this is why he’s been pushing her away, a little bit. The larger reasons still being his overwhelming guilt over Eddie and his knowledge that Iris’ grieving period and Caitlin’s are so similar and both his fault. But maybe there’s also the knowledge that this, them, it’s going to lead to his death.

And her being forced to write about it.

He’d rather them not become a _them_ at all.

Iris shouldn’t have to go through this again. Especially if it’s his fault again. He can’t hurt her like this again. She can’t lose someone she loves like that again. He’s already seen what it happening twice has done to Caitlin. For it to happen to Iris as well… and for it to be his fault both times…

Maybe it’s best that they stay apart.

(Maybe it hurts like hell) (maybe it hurts almost as bad as the thought of his dad leaving because of him) (maybe it hurts because he may have more than enough family but he knows all he is going to do is let them down and leave them behind) (and what use are the years away when they could be _together_?)

(But she comes first) (always) (he won’t have her hurting like that again).

 

...

 

So Darhk is magic. That’s only slightly more terrifying than everything else they’ve faced.

And really Felicity should be more scared. But something about this feels different. Something about this time feels a little bit like hope.

She doesn’t know.

Maybe it’s hard to feel like things are going downhill when her boyfriend’s at her side and she’s got a lunch with Laurel and Thea and she’s no longer hiding her desire to be helping and saving and at her keyboard while explosions erupt in her ear through the comms. Maybe everything feels really right for the first time in a long time.

(Or maybe she’s just really glad to get away from their neighbors) (she kind of hated their neighbors) (seeing Diggle and Thea and Laurel every day is way better than seeing their neighbors twice a week).

And sure, she may not have been there to watch as Darhk drained the life from a man. She may not totally understand the look in everyone’s eyes when they’d returned from that. She may not totally get what was so great about that threat that it made Oliver realize maybe the city needed him as much as it needs her, but either way the outcome is the same: the team is together again, perhaps better than ever, and Dig and Oliver may still need healing, but they’ll get there.

Everyone will get there.

Eventually, Oliver will stop reflexively ordering people around. Eventually, Laurel will stop automatically wanting to do the opposite of what Oliver orders her to do. Eventually, everyone will stop treating Thea like the baby of the team.

(But it’s really hard when she looks up with her hood still on and shoots her big grey eyes at them in a way that would be totally adorable if she wasn’t holding a knife to someone’s throat) (it’s really hard when Thea tags around for lunch with her and Laurel and Felicity just can’t say no because she feels some sort of responsibility to the younger girl) (a sort of responsibility that has nothing to do with the fact that she’s dating his brother).

They’re a family somehow now. A dysfunctional, chaotic family, but family nevertheless. Everyone will work things out eventually. They have to. Felicity’s not going to just sit back and let tension build and wait for an explosive argument. Explosions should be reserved for field work. And… you know… other things.

(Other things being things related to Oliver and things related to the fact that she’d asked Cisco to make the new suit sleeveless and things related to how much she’s _really missed_ the salmon ladder).

Also, explosions should be reserved for going full out on the Palmer Tech Board at their last video conference when they’d tried to talk her down from the position yet again.

Ah yes, the Board. Her new enemy. She’s seriously considering draining all their stock portfolios ten times already, and would’ve, had it not affected the company. They could get behind Isabel Rochev as the youngest yet female CEO of a major corporation when they could place the blame on Oliver, but they can’t really do that with Ray now that they’ve renamed the city in his honor. Also, you know, once it got “leaked” to the press that she graduated _summa cum laude_ from MIT at age 19. They can’t make her out to be an idiot, certainly can’t call her old and senile, so the best they can do is slut shame her to no end and refuse to give her the actual position for as long as possible.

(Still, at least it’s better than that book club the neighborhood ladies had tried to get her to join) (if she’d thought she knew evil beforehand…)

All that has changed, however, now that she’s in Star City. Her phone’s been ringing off the hook for three days now, with panicked calls from the board, several reporters, and one Walter Steel.

(Walter’s always been kind to her) (ever since the beginning) (and his words of praise this time are no different). (He may have also caught on to the whole “Green Arrow” thing) (yeah, she’s going to need to set up a brunch with him too).

Felicity thinks maybe she’ll go by the office today, freak everyone out a bit. See what terrible damage has been done to all of Ray’s beautiful projects. Surely they can’t keep her out of her own building… right?

Laurel will probably have something to say about that at brunch. Which is why she needs to get up and get dressed and-

“ _Oliver,_ I have to go _do stuff._ Brunch with Laurel, remember?”

“Laurel can wait” he mumbles, sleepily, shooting his arm out to try and pull her close again, but she dodges out of his grasp, reaching for her glasses.

“You and I both know she really _can’t_.” she sighs, walking over to the closet. “She’s got a meeting with a client in three hours. _Some of us_ actually have jobs, you know.”

“This is my job.”

“Oliver, sleeping with me is not a _job_.”

He quirks an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, you know what I meant.”

(But she’s right). (Just because Oliver’s content to lay in bed all day that doesn’t mean she is). (She needs projects, purpose, action, something to keep her mind occupied and her heart bursting). (Because she loves him, she really does, but everything else is just _so boring_ ).

Felicity tries to focus on whether she wants to wear the pink and black flowers crop top / white skirt combo or the purple A line as Oliver comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her.

(Maybe she should invest in a spray bottle to keep her big sleepy boyfriend from distracting her in the morning).

She laughs and gives him a quick kiss but then slips out of his arms to get dressed. He can sleep off the night of crime fighting if he wants to, but she has old men to frighten and a friend to meet. Besides, she’s fairly sure he was planning on heading over to Verdant to check on Thea.

 

...

 

Felicity’s on his television. Making her way back into Starling City. Or Star City. Whatever.

Last time he saw her in person was at Ray’s funeral. And last time he’d talked to her…

(Things had gone badly). (Worse than he could’ve ever imagined). (And okay maybe he resented her a bit for getting everything she’d ever wanted and leaving him alone in the dark when all he needed was a friend) (but she didn’t seem to understand his need to be alone, his need to keep others from being hurt and he’d thought she of all people would have-)

(He guesses he doesn’t know her as well as he’d thought).

See the problem with them is that things have always been in a grey area. Somewhere in between love and friendship. Somewhere in between right and wrong. Somewhere in between utter happiness and destruction. Somewhere between black and white. But there’s a place in time where things were separated and no longer muddled, like they’d just been through a round in the centrifuge that brought them together. And now, instead of suffering through muddled greys together, she’s taken all the light with her and left him in the darkness.

And what a darkness it is.

Maybe he never really stopped mourning Eddie. Maybe that’s why the darkness is all he can see: the way the black hole opened up over the city and within his heart, and the way only the first was ever closed.

He can’t blame her for taking all the light, though; she’s been in the darkness for far longer than he has. She deserves it.

It’s October when the black hole finally finishes sucking out all the light left in his life. And it’s when Iris finally manages to make him smile again.

She’s not even really trying this time, just telling him about how she’s going to take the Central City Picture News van out with Linda to cover this story on the possibility of meta-humans using their abilities to cheat during sports games.

Iris sighs, “If only she knew her ex-boyfriend was the Flash… she might actually be interested in this then.”

And it’s so funny to him that it’s more likely Linda will find out he’s the Flash now that she’s friends with Iris than when they were dating. That time seems so long ago, when he and Felicity had been comparing their _bread and circuses_ , and he’d just wanted to be perfectly happy instead of just mostly happy. Now he just wishes he could feel any amount of happiness.

But Iris, Iris is a gift. She’s a bright ray of light in his world, and he thinks that maybe, maybe this feels like starting over.

He’ shocks her and himself when he ends up joking back. “Maybe I should make a guest appearance, you know, do the whole dramatic reveal thing.”

Her dark eyes widen a little bit, before she erupts into a smile, and they quickly fall back into the banter of their childhood.

“I don’t know,” she starts, picking up her bag, STAR Labs key card swinging across her chest as she does so, “might contradict the whole ‘ _what other girls?’_ thing.”

And he knows they’re both remembering a slightly breathless conversation from almost a year ago on a rooftop neither of them really goes to anymore. The memory is potent, but Barry brushes it off quickly. “ _You told her?_ Tsk tsk, I expected better from my favorite reporter.”

“Oh so I _am_ your favorite, huh? And she wanted _all the details_ , Bar, I wouldn’t be a good reporter if I left anything out.”

“You left out my identity.” he points out.

“It wasn’t relevent.”

“I think _you_ just don’t want Linda to know she missed out on dating the hero of Central City.”

(So he’s not wearing the title with pride yet) (So what?) (He’s _not_ the hero). (And his words may be bitter but his smile is not because he’s missed this, missed them) (And at least Iris had Linda and Caitlin to get her through the time when he wasn’t - couldn’t be - around).

“Uh huh?”

All he can do is smile at her. Smile and wonder if she knows the kind of effect she has on him because all he can do is think about how wrong he was to push her away from this. Because if he’s going to keep himself from being with her, keep that newspaper from ever having to happen, he should at least let her rekindle their friendship.

They’ve always had this.

Even before he loved her they always had this.

The easy camaraderie that comes so naturally to them, like he was just born with the ability to get a smile out of Iris.

She’s smiling at him, too. Looking back over her shoulder as she walks out the door, eyes playful and sparkling and oh-so brown.

(Wow, he really loves her)

(Like really truly loves her)

(He could get lost in eyes like those)

(But _guys like us don’t get the girl_ )

(So he's’ going to keep his distance).

Oliver may have been wrong about him and Felicity, but he wasn’t wrong about him and Iris. This really is for the best. And it’s really not Felicity’s fault that she’d pulled Oliver’s head out of his ass and driven off to Ivytown with him. It’s not her fault she wasn’t here when the sky opened up and his world collapsed.

She was in Bali at the time.

He’d seen the pictures on Instagram.

And maybe it had taken her a few days to call him afterwards. Maybe it’s okay that she was a little distracted. Maybe he was a bit too harsh on her.

But loneliness can do that to you. And she should’ve understood that. She knows the feeling of being left behind better than almost anyone. And it can’t have been that wrong of him to think that she would be there to pick up the pieces when his world fell apart like he was there for her.

Maybe he should give her a call.

…

 

Her phone rings after brunch with Laurel.

To be fair, it’s been vibrating in her purse all day, but this call isn’t coming from a board member or a reporter or anything like that. Instead it’s coming from someone she hasn’t heard from in a while. Caller ID: Barry Allen.

There was a point in the summer where he’d stopped picking up when she called. When Iris and Cisco had come to Star City for a week or so, Laurel had told her they said Barry had closed himself off from the rest of the team. She’d called Iris up later and gotten the full story of what really happened that day in May when the sky opened up over Central City. Barry stopped calling her sometime after that.

But now here he is. Maybe something changed. Maybe he finally got some sense knocked into him. Maybe he wants to apologize for leaving her alone while he wallowed in his darkness when all she wanted to do was help.

(Maybe it’s an accident) (maybe he doesn’t actually want to talk to her anymore) (maybe gaining this kind of fresh start means she’s lost him forever).

She picks up.

“Felicity?” His voice is cracking and he sounds so unsure but he’s _alive_ and _wants to talk to her_ and _doesn’t hate her_ and the amount of relief she feels just upon hearing her name is indescribable.

“Barry!” she all but screams into the phone. She gets a few strange looks from people on the street but keeps walking, hailing a taxi. “Are you okay? Is _Iris_ okay?”

(It should probably say something about the state of their friendship that she assumes this call is emergency-related). (Who knows? Maybe they were cursed in Nanda Parbat when they forgot to say goodbye). ( _They always say goodbye_ ). (Even after last time…)

He laughs, it’s quiet, almost inaudible but she swears she hears laughter and it’s such a good sound to hear because she doesn’t think she’s heard Barry laugh in months and unless there’s a terrible laughing-gas meta-human on the loose, this means everything is okay.

Everything is okay and Barry doesn’t hate her and Iris isn’t dying.

“I’m fine, Felicity. Iris is fine. Can’t I call just to call?”

“Yes! Of course you can! I mean, it’s always good to hear your voice. I mean, not _always_ , but-”

She thinks back to the fight to end all fights. The way his voice had sounded cracked and chipped and broken. It hadn’t been good to hear his voice then. It had felt a lot like stepping on broken glass.

“Yours too.”

“I mean, I should _know_ Iris is fine, since I just saw that snapchat story of Cisco trying to out-cake her a few days ago, but you never know what can happen in a few days. That was a party, right?”

“Sorry we didn’t invite you. Didn’t exactly know you’d be around.”

“I didn’t really know either. Just came back, in fact. Guess we couldn’t avoid it forever.”

“Was that your dress Iris was wearing?”  
“Probably. She came up to Starling a  few months ago and helped me pack some things up. I thought you knew.”

“Pack up?”

“Yeah. We were in Ivytown for a while.”

“I guess I missed a lot.”

There’s silence on both ends as they try to bridge the gap the summer has put between them. While she tries to forgive him for shutting her out and he tries to forgive her for leaving him alone.

“Are you… doing okay, Barry?” She finally asks, filling the empty space on the line.

“I think I am. My dad got exonerated.”

“I know.”

“Oh?”

“Iris told me.”

“He’s leaving Central City.”

“ _Barry, oh…_ ”

She knows it’s not the same, she really does. But his words bring her back to waiting up all night for days on end for her father to reappear. Pretending it didn’t bother her that her mother suddenly was never home anymore. Pretending like one day she’s going to come home from school and he’s going to be sitting there, at his desk, screwdriver in hand, and give her that smile she always craved and tell help her finish putting together that computer.

But he doesn’t.

And all she’s left with is a stolen mismatched supercomputer and a half-done normal one that meant a whole lot more to her and an ache in her chest that never really stopped, even now. Even as she sits in a taxi on the way to Palmer Tech on the line with Barry. There’s still a part of her heart she never really got back.

(Oliver can’t heal all her wounds, you know).

(And he tried, god knows he tried) (but honestly she’d be worried if her boyfriend filled the void left by her father) (and Oliver’s already told her) (he’s glad she went through what she did) (they shaped her into the person she is today) (and he loves her).

“Did he say where he’s going?”

“Yeah. Coast City was where he was thinking. I’m just glad he told me before he left.”

“Barry I-”

She hadn’t really told him when she’d left at first. That was a sore spot between them even still. Apparently he’d called her, after the singularity had closed, and she’d had her phone off because of all the traveling and didn’t even realize until almost a week later.

She _knows_ it was her fault, she does. She knows she’d said she’d be there for him and then wasn’t and that it probably didn’t help keep him from pushing everyone away, but at the time of their argument all she’d wanted to know was _did he blame her for getting away from all of it?_

She’d missed the crime fighting, she really had, but she had not missed the toll it takes.

And she’d felt attacked at the time too, scared that in choosing happiness with Oliver she’d lost the happiness she’d had with Barry.

She was scared he wouldn’t forgive her.

And she was scared she wouldn’t forgive him.

But it seems like they’re trying now at least. And trying is good because trying means healing and healing means growing and really she just wants him back in her life.

(She’s missed him).

“I know.”

“We can start over, you know. We’re not exactly the same people we were last year. We don’t have to keep pretending to be. I mean just last year I was still working in retail and hating my life and you were in a coma. We’ve grown, we’ve _changed_. Shouldn’t we be allowed to acknowledge that?”

“Blank slate.” He agrees, and she breathes out a sigh of relief. “ _Tabula rasa._ ”

And suddenly the world clicks into piece again. They are puzzle pieces that fit together so _utterly_ perfectly that the universe doesn’t quite feel right when they become disjointed. She _needs_ him, and he needs her, and it may not be in the way they’d first expected when they’d met but it works. _This works._

And she really had missed him.

(Maybe she’s just missed the sound of him repeating long-dead Latin phrases in her ear). (Maybe it’s that).

(But maybe it’s so much more than that).


	2. Pyrrhic Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some victories are worth it.  
> others... not so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this was _not_ supposed to be as angsty as it was but here we are. i think it may be impossible for me to write real fluff (that barricity first date fic being the exception). both flash and arrow are on a ROLL with these new seasons and i'm loving the new material. really really exciting stuff.

Pyrrhic Victory

{a too costly victory} {from Pyrrhus, a Greek king who defeated the Romans in 279 BC, but suffered extremely heavy losses in the fight}

 

Barry is adjusting.

It’s different having the team back in STAR Labs after months of them obeying when he asked them to leave him alone. It’s different to be questioned, judged for his choices, because _can’t they see all he’s doing is trying to keep from repeating the past?_

It’s different having Iris call him out.

She’d always called him out beforehand, letting him know when he crossed a line, but it was always outside of this. _This,_ this was his thing. The lightning did not strike Iris West, it struck Barry Allen. (The lightning did not crush the soul of Barry Allen as he watched Iris West struggle for survival in a hospital room) (It’s the other way around).

But it might as well have.

Because Iris, she’s the heart of this team. Him and Caitlin are trying to mend their friendship after all this difference and Cisco seems distant, has been ever since May, but they both adore Iris. And Barry does too. So Iris is keeping this team together.

Iris is the one holding hands and patting shoulders as Caitlin tries to keep Stein alive.

Iris is the one who talks him down when his anger is boiling and his self-hatred is tearing him apart.

Iris is the one who gives Caitlin’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze as Jay Garrick tells them maybe there’s a chance that Ronnie’s still alive. On another Earth, but still alive.

(He doesn’t know whether or not she seems pleased by this news) (maybe her relationship with Ronnie has been so full of whiplash that she doesn’t know _how_ to feel anymore) (maybe everything went numb for Caitlin Snow in May and now Cisco’s the only one who can truly make her smile) (maybe Caitlin broke and Barry doesn’t know how to fix her) (or even if he should).

Jay Garrick. The gift horse that Barry is trying oh-so-desperately to ignore.

The gift horse that keeps on giving.

Jay is exactly what they need right now. An expert on all the things that Barry needs help on. He could potentially lead this entire team if Iris wasn’t already perfectly filling that position. He could be the next Harrison Wells.

And that is what has Barry truly terrified.

He can’t open all of them up to trust and friendship and all that again only for them to face the worst kind of betrayal. (He can’t give them the go-ahead when there’s the potential that someone else he cares about might die).

Despite what Iris may think, his mistrust of Jay goes far beyond whatever sense of competition may be stirring at the surface. Barry can deal with competition. He can _deal with_ guys like Oliver Queen. Guys like Harrison Wells, however…

(Maybe that’s why he’s still holding the reigns on this) (maybe he’s trying to determine whether Jay Garrick is a Harrison Wells or an Oliver Queen) (because that could make all the difference).

Barry guesses he understands where Joe is coming from.

Neither of them want to re-live losing Eddie Thawne. Neither of them want to have another death to blame themselves for.

But he puts in a good word for Patty anyways.

Patty is… good. She’s good. She’s pure gumption and hard work and determination in a uniform topped off with a head of blonde hair and a brain full of Monty Python. And Barry likes her.

She’s not afraid of the metas. Only a few in Central City aren’t. They love the Flash, but the rest of the metas seem to be the kind of people who wreck their cars and kill their children and take away everything they love.

(If only they knew the Flash has done that too).

Barry goes and re-builds Patty’s old house the night after Joe tells him the story about her dad. He tries not to spend too long on the personal items, but there are pictures in the rubble. Pictures of her and her father and once again Barry can’t help but blame himself.

Patty is good and she didn’t deserve what happened to her.

So many people didn’t deserve what life handed them.

Barry happens to be one of them. Barry isn’t worthy of the immense power he possesses. He doesn’t know how to save people the way Oliver can, the way Laurel can, the way Jay says he once did. All he does is give the citizens of Central City a false sense of hope. A non-existent light at the end of a tunnel. The Flash can’t save them.

Cisco pulled up the security footage afterwards. Barry watched as Patty proclaimed loudly that the Flash would save her. As she spat in Slick’s face and told him that some people didn’t deserve powers.

If only she knew the truth about May. Maybe she’d want to bring the Flash in too.

(Maybe he should be brought in) (he’d seen himself in jail when he was traversing time last year) (if it’s bound to happen eventually why not now) (he deserves it).

He tells Iris this. She tells him he’s being ridiculous.

She sounds like Felicity. Felicity, whose optimism is almost painful to hear right now. Maybe they’re sharing more than just clothes.

So yes, they might’ve technically won today. But it doesn’t feel like it. Not even close.

 ...

Felicity really, really likes being the CEO of a major corporation.

What she does _not_ really really like is the expectations that are coming with it. The board seems out to ruin her reputation. She’s had to fire three people personally today and each time she’s felt like crying. Because she _knows_ some of these people. Unlike the board, she’s actually interacted with her employees. She used to _be_ one. She _knows_ the sinking pit you get in your stomach when some poor soul goes to inform you that the CEO wants you in their office, the pitied looks you get sent as you walk down the hallways. She’s lived all that before. The only difference being that Walter didn’t fire her.

She also knows what it feels like to have barely enough. To love in Starling City isn’t cheap, after all. She remembers that the first thought she’d had when Oliver had left her with too much money (besides the obvious _you’re leaving?_ ) was that she would finally get out of debt. She’d been hoping she could take some of that weight off of her employee’s shoulders, not add to it.

So maybe she gives them all a little fib. But she’s gotten really good at lying since that night Walter Steele called her up to his office. And anyway, they buy it. Of course they do. It’s not like they can say no to her.

And Curtis may not _currently_ have that amazing project, but she’s confident he’ll have one soon because she read his file (she wasn’t lying about that) and he’s smart. Like wicked smart. Like she-might-actually-let-him-touch-her-babies-in-the-Arrow-Cave-smart. And she likes him, he’s a good person. And she’s excited to work with him. Ray would’ve liked him too.

(Felicity’s tried not to dwell on Ray too much) (when the news of his death had arrived, she’d blamed herself) (remembering how he’d nearly blown himself up before) (how she’d been the one to stop it then) (how she should’ve been the one to stop it now). (Oliver and her had had a fight after that) (about what constituted as a death on your hands). (She still feels like it’s on her hands) (no matter what Oliver says).

Barry would probably like Curtis too. Just like he liked Ray. (She wonders if Barry had gone to Ray’s funeral when she hadn’t been able to). She wonders if Curtis knows he’s about to join the club of super smart guys who are friends with Felicity Smoak. Maybe there’s a different club he should join…

She trusts Curtis, though. So far he’s the best thing about this place. To be frank, she doesn’t trust the board. She’s fairly sure Darhk has spies there and if she wasn’t a part of aforementioned other club she would be very, very scared for her life. She is _technically_ a city leader, after all, and they’re dropping like flies. But she hasn’t been attacked yet. She supposes it might be because Darhk doesn’t recognize her as a leader yet. She doesn’t blame him; for days she was just doing what the board told her to. She’s not a leader yet, not really.

_But_ , she thinks as she sets down her tablet, _if these ideas for rebranding Palmer Tech work out, she might actually have a fully-functioning company on her hands._ A company people want to work at. Like Google. She wants them to be the next Google. She wants to make a difference.

(Oliver does too) (maybe that’s where that crazy mayor idea came from). (She was shocked at first, but it’s grown on her) (also it’ll be harder to kill off city leaders when three of them are on Team Arrow). ( _Attention, citizens of Star City:_ ) ( _do not worry, your city leaders are probably not going to die anymore_ ) ( _since your District Attorney is the Black Canary_ ) ( _the Mayor is the Green Arrow_ ) ( _and the CEO of Palmer Tech doesn’t have a code name yet but she probably isn’t going to die either_ ).

Then at least they might be able to keep up with Wayne Enterprises. Gotham seems to be churning out a lot of comparable things these days. There’s even a hacker there with the code name _Oracle_. And that may or may not be where the desire for a code name came from. She hasn’t tried them in a hack-off yet, but her respect continues to grow for this mystery opponent. For now, though, she thinks she’ll take on Wayne Enterprises, and _then_ she’ll see what else Gotham has to offer.

She can make this work. (Maybe). But it’s hard. It’s a lot harder than she’d thought at first. This victory may cost her her soul. But she’ll try her best to keep from becoming a soulless corporate face. She owes the company that much.

It is, after all, the reason she is where she is today. It’s the reason she has Oliver and Diggle and Laurel and Barry in her life. It’s the reason she can feel as whole as she feels today.

And that hasn’t happened in a while.

This feeling of completeness has been missing from her life since that day her dad walked out on them.

So maybe it’s worth giving a little piece of her soul away to this company if it means she can go home feeling like this every day.

(And also if it means she doesn’t go to bed hating herself for Ray Palmer’s death anymore).

 ...

Felicity’s call comes just on time. It’s after work and he’s in STAR Labs, eating Chinese food with Caitlin and Cisco and Iris when she calls.

There was a time when Iris would’ve raised an eyebrow at the knowledge Felicity Smoak was calling him again. Now, though, now both of them together are such an intrinsic part of his life that it doesn’t seem strange.

Funny how that happens.

“Oliver’s running for mayor.”

Barry laughs for a minute before he realizes she’s serious. “For real?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Are you worried?”

“He can’t exactly… protect himself outside of the suit without blowing his cover, you know? I’m worried he’s going to feel the need to choose again between Oliver Queen and the Green Arrow if things go badly.”

“Felicity he’s not going to leave you if he loses the race. You guys are so far past that.”

“Two weeks ago I would’ve agreed with you. But here and now, what we have kind of feels surreal. Like a too good to be true kind of thing.”

“But you - you guys are different. You guys have something special. Hold onto that.”

“You say that like you don’t.”

“I don’t,” He tells her. And it’s the truth, because him and Iris don’t have anything beyond a mending friendship and him and Linda are long done and he’s not really looking to bring anyone close to him again. (People who are close to him get hurt).

“You might, if you’d open yourself up again. If Caitlin can let herself move on from Ronnie’s death, why can’t you?”

It’s a fair question and he knows it but there’s still that gap of not understanding between them, and Barry’s not in the mood to explain all the reasons that he _can’t_ to her (mostly because he can’t think of any good ones that will hold up under Felicity’s scrutifying gaze), so he doesn’t. He just lets the silence on the line hang there and hopes she’ll change the subject.

“Don’t blame yourself,” she finally says. “God knows I’m doing it enough for the both of us.”

Barry had heard, about Ray Palmer, it had happened before they’d fought. Felicity had cried to him on the phone for almost an hour. The story she’d told him about how she’d gotten together with him, about how he’d been working so hard he’d almost killed himself, had been the one he’d told in her stead at Ray’s funeral. The one that brought the audience almost to tears.

She’s truly a Scheherazade, whether she thinks so or not.

But he’d thought she was over that. Maybe her first few days at the company have brought it back… or maybe it’s something else.

“What happened?” he asks.

“It’s Thea…” she starts, tentatively. “She said something today. I think- I think what’s going on with her might be my fault.”

“ _Felicity._ ”

“Oliver- he said she was doing fine before- before we left and Thea said…”

Felicity’s crying a bit now, he can hear it over the phone, and Barry has no idea what long-shut casket she’s just opened but he thinks it might have something to do with their talk last week. About fathers and leaving and the things they had in common and the baggage Felicity carried that they most certainly did not.

“She said he was right and she’d been fine and _then he left._ Barry, it’s _my fault_. It’s all mine. _I took her brother away from her when she needed him._ I’m the reason Thea can’t control herself out in the field. If I’d just… maybe if I’d just said _no_ when he’d asked me…”

This is not something Barry is equipped to handle.

He knows that this is all stemming from her own experiences being abandoned when she needed someone the most. But Felicity’s been _happy_ since she left, like really truly happy for the first time he’s known her. (He’d heard she’d been happy in between the lightning and when he’d woken up but he’d never really seen this side of her for himself until this summer). Things must be really bad if all she’s wishing is to take back these months of happiness…

They’d had a good thing going on, with her being happy and him being not. He doesn’t want to go back to the days when they’d break down on the phone together with no hope on either end. But Felicity seems dangerously close to getting there.

He has to do something.

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to bear the weight of both his guilt and hers.

So he looks at it logically. The only way he can reach her when she’s this far gone emotionally.

“He was warned that the Lazarus pit has side effects, right?”

She sniffs. “Right.”

“So maybe you all just didn’t notice them because everything was life-or-death. Maybe Thea only seems worse off now because the situation isn’t as desperate.”

“But maybe not.”

“Felicity you can’t possibly want to sacrifice your happiness for the _possibility_ that Oliver made a bad decision. _He_ asked _you_ to go away, not the other way around. Just because you guys are together that doesn’t mean all of his wrong actions are your fault.”

“But he doesn’t _know_ ; I _knew_ how that felt and I still-”

“Hey, hey. Thea is not you and Oliver is not your father. You are not to blame for this. This is a victory on your end.”

“A _Pyrrhic victory._ ”

He can almost _see_ her bitter smile.

“Things will get better, I promise.”

“Things already have, Barry. I’m just worried about the cost.”

 


	3. Bona Fide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Felicity are both still trying to figure out exactly who to trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: there is a bit of morally grey felicity smoak in this chapter, along with some references to physical and mental abuse for both lisa and felicity. the darhk-is-felicity's-father theory is still full steam after the trailers for next week, but i'm still keeping it pretty veiled here to try and keep this as in-canon as possible  
> hope you guys enjoy :)

bonâ fide

_{latin for in good faith} {In ancient Rome it meant something closer to “reliability” when it came to trust in a relationship, bona fides (the nominative form) was always assumed by both sides, had implied responsibilities, and both legal and religious consequences if broken} {Fides was one of the original virtues to be considered a religious "divinity" in Roman paganism}_

 

Iris is in trouble. She calls. He comes. He catches her.

For a second after he puts her down, Iris grabs his face and he’s so sure she’s about to kiss him. Their faces move closer and closer until finally she jerks quickly to the side, enveloping him in a hug. He tries to push it aside. They’re not _ready_ for this.

(And it was just the adrenaline) (just her being thankful he saved her) (just her being Iris West, ace reporter) (it wouldn’t have meant anything) (and he wants it to mean something).

So when he pulls away he tries not to linger on the long-ago memorized scent of her hair. Or replay in his mind how fast her heart was being. He tells himself it was the fall. The jump and the fall and him catching her. He tries to act like he didn’t see this scene when he went back in time. He tries to ignore how carrying her in his arms just feels right. How this, like the spark on the bridge, feels like a part of something bigger.

Because it can’t be a part of something bigger.

(Not unless he wants that newspaper to come true) (not unless he wants to leave Iris alone again) (if her and Eddie weren’t in the original timeline, then she only got one big heartbreak in her life) (and he’d like to keep it that way).

She laughs and jumps around and is just utterly adorable and it takes all of Barry’s willpower to remember what he’s decided to do with this situation. The pain he’s preventing. He can’t _be with her._

Still, he can have coffee with her.

Just as long as he keeps the barrier of Cisco and Caitlin there too, because Iris gets along great with him and it distracts the both of them from remembering that terrible _start doing_ conversation. Cisco and Iris have just started bonding about pastries when Barry comes back with the coffee after a particularly awkward conversation with Patty Spivot.

And then Cisco bumps into Lisa Snart. Barry tries to hide his face behind his mug but honestly, if she and Cisco are going to keep up this whole rendezvous thing, it might be better to just tell her. She’s probably going to find out anyways.

Lisa says she needs help. Cisco obliges. For some reason. (Well actually, Barry’s pretty sure he knows the reason) (lately Cisco’s had a hard time resisting when women with gorgeous hair in black leather ask him for favors).

And then he learns the one thing that can bring Captain Cold to his knees. A bomb. In his sister’s neck.

He brings Lisa into STAR Labs, and normally Barry would be just as wary as Caitlin, but she trusts Cisco. And with the new knowledge of Iris’ mother, he knows children are victims. Lisa’s scar, well, it’s just a reminder that there are far many more emotional scars hidden beneath her surface. Just like Felicity. Lisa and Felicity may not be very similar, but they do share this terrible thing, and that (combined with the fact that Cisco’s puppy dog eyes are really hard to resist) is the fact that makes him trust her.

( _He’s a bad guy,_ she says) (and Barry realizes there are people worse than the metas who like to cause chaos) (the people who intentionally hurt the people they love) (just to feel some sick type of power) (the people who put a bombs in their daughters’ necks) (Barry’s dad may not be _here_ , but he’s still a _good guy_ ) (Barry doesn’t flinch when he sees broken glass the way Lisa does).

Lisa’s not _good_ , but she’s not _bad_ either. She’s chaos and spite and flirtation, but she doesn’t kill anymore, she’s mysteriously kind to Cisco, and Barry’s fairly sure if she knew his identity, she wouldn’t hold it over his head the way Cold does. She’s got a good soul. And he finds that he’s beginning to trust her (at least with Cisco’s heart). She’d maybe make herself something of a hero in Star City - there things are a little grayer. And she’d probably get along great with Laurel Lance.

Cisco says she reminds him of BatCat, and then shakes his head a little. (Yeah, he’s definitely keeping some sort of secret there) (and Barry has absolutely no idea what _BatCat_ is).

Slowly, though, Barry realizes, as he sticks his neck out for Lisa, he’s beginning to learn how to trust people again. He trusts Lisa to not break Cisco’s heart, he trusts Cold to keep his secret, he trusts Iris that her and Linda are not going to gang up on him, he even trusts Patty. He tells Patty about her dad (an easier story now that he’s been proven innocent).

“We’re both doing this for our parents,” she says. “It’s good to know someone else at this precinct understands.”

He considers saying he’d told her this _bona fide_ , but that’s his thing with Felicity. And it just feels wrong. Patty’s not Felicity. No matter what first impressions may say.

 

...

 

It’s just her and Dig and Oliver this week. And she’s never felt tenser to hear that.

Laurel and Thea leave. Oliver says they’re at a spa but Felicity doesn’t believe her. Laurel’s been… distant since they came back. John too. And she’s trying to fix it as hard as she can, she really is. Everyone needs to trust each other again. Because right now they don’t trust each other. They don’t even trust _her._

(It’s not like she doesn’t know why) (they’re distant because she’s with Oliver) (because they’re supposed to be one mind now that they’re _together_ together) (that something changed in the team’s dynamic while they’ve been away) (and she’s not sure how to get _back to that point_ with all of them).

(She can’t believe she managed to push away Barry _and_ Laurel _and_ Dig in one summer) (she can’t believe how lonely she can be despite waking up in Oliver’s arms every morning)

(She can’t believe the ache in her chest when she sees Barry’s name pop up on Caller ID as she’s trying to figure out who this card guy is) (she can’t believe how this time a year ago she was asking Laurel if they were friends and wondering if Ray would give her time off to go see Barry and hoping Dig would be okay in Corto Maltese and then everything got better and now everything’s kind of back to where it was) (Laurel is distant, Barry is too, and all she does is worry whether or not Dig is going to get himself killed).

She laughs when she picks up and he says her name.

“ _Felicity._ ”

_“Barry._ ”

“There’s a meta in Starling.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ what he is. You know, I was beginning to wonder. What’s his name?”

“Cisco’s decided to call him Double Down.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“He didn’t say. I don’t get it either, since he was getting a tattoo when the dark matter wave hit.”

“We’re talking about the guy with tattoo playing cards here, right?”

“That’s the one.”

“Any ideas how to stop him?”

“We didn’t get enough into him here, but if I were you, I’d say normal methods should work.”

“Okay, thank you! Bye, Barry.”

“Iris almost kissed me.”

“WHAT?”

“Bye, Felicity.”

He hangs up. He’s teasing her, she knows that, and she’s going to grill him _so hard_ later, you know, when there’s not a meta loose in the city.

He’s lucky. He has his team, and his team _works._ Team Arrow, which used to work like a fine-tuned machine, is broken and battered and just plain not getting along. Dig and Oliver can’t trust each other, Laurel and Thea are keeping secrets, the Queen siblings are fighting, Laurel’s first impulse every time Oliver talks seems to be to do the opposite and, well, no one is really trusting each other. Team Flash got it easy. Iris West gets added to their team and they all get _closer_. They’re not falling apart in Central City. But they are here.

Felicity can’t help but feel like it’s her fault. She didn’t make Oliver stay. He should’ve stayed. Should’ve cared for Thea and rebuilt his friendship with Dig and helped Laurel get to the point where the both of them could move on from the past. They were so close - everything was so close to being fine when they’d left, but now everything is broken again. This team is her family and her family is broken. She doesn’t want another broken family. Not when she can fix this one. So she locks Dig and Oliver in a room and heads up to Curtis Holt’s office to try and get some help on this.

Normally she’d just do this herself. Barry’s taught her a few things, and also she’s fairly good at most basic sciences, but something about Curtis’ file intrigued her.

She wants to know if he’s made of as much as he seems. See if maybe her hunch is right and he’d be a great addition to Team Arrow.

But first she’s going to have to give him the full bullshit excuse that everybody gets. Well, she wasn’t _planning_ to, but then she remembered Curtis once let it slip that he’s a little more interested in the vigilantes of this city than the average Star City resident.

He’s done his research.

And the look on his face when she hands him the playing card, and he says _gambling_ makes her think she might’ve just let something slip.

So she goes it over in her head: nope, no live-changing secrets were revealed… so what does he know?

She tries not to get flustered, tells the truth when she says “Poker’s my jam,” borrowing the phrase from Barry, but then she stumbles on her cover story and says _outside flush_ and she curses herself for it, but she can’t look like she just lied her face off, so she continues on, hoping he won’t notice. What are the odds he’ll notice? (Probably unlikely, seeing as it’s pretty much common knowledge at the company that she grew up in Vegas, and no one really tries to out-card-game-trivia her).

Curtis also notices her phone.

Her stupid phone. It’s been going over lines of code every few minutes since this morning, and she’s pretty much been able to get it to function without any major slips yet, but it’s getting on her nerves. It’s a simple problem she knows how to fix, but she’s _way_ too busy to do it right now, not when lives are at stake (both the lives of real people and the life of her company, which still seems to be on the verge of bankruptcy if they don’t come up with something soon).

She’s looking at her phone when she’s leaving, cursing at it internally for misbehaving only now that they’ve gotten back to Star City, when Curtis catches her.

“Oh, Ms. Smoak, there’s no such thing as an outside flush in poker.”

She doesn’t know how she keeps a straight face when she responds. “That’s probably why I lost.”

Felicity Smoak doesn’t _lose_ at poker. She reminds herself to invite him for cards next time they play. Let him see how good she really is.

He himself is really good, though.

When she visits him later, right before Double Down almost kills both of them, he makes a comment on her name.

She freezes.

Because a card reference _and_ questions about her name in one day? He might know something.

The mob casino she’d infiltrated still has a record of a Meghan who got banned. She’d never made it disappear because she thought no one would make the connection, but from the look on Curtis’ face as he lets her know her playing card _is not_ , in fact, a playing card.

He gives her this totally incredulous look as she tries to lie her way out of this too. _He knows._ He must know.

Maybe that’s why, when cards are flying all around them, she doesn’t think too hard about revealing the whole Green Arrow thing to him. (He would’ve figured it out eventually) (especially if Oliver ever came by the office) (I mean at least Felicity’s lie was _somewhat_ convincing) (other than, you know, the whole outside flush thing) (Oliver’s trademark lies involve things like lattes and energy drinks and basically a whole lot of beverages that never were) (Curtis wouldn’t buy that anymore than she had when she’d first heard them).

Luckily, he can keep a secret.

Yeah, she likes him. She thinks she might keep him.

She calls him later that night.

“I almost died today,” Felicity decides to start out with, because he’d ended their call earlier with the _I almost kissed Iris_ line, and he deserves a freak out too.

What she does _not_ expect is his answer.

“Me too.”

“BARRY ALLEN you can’t just _say things like this_.”

“I mean, it was okay, Cisco’s upgrades to the suit saved me. Cold shot me with his cold gun.”

She gasps a little. Barry had told her about his deal with Leonard Snart. Things must be really messed up in Central City if all _that_ had gone out the window. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“Well I shot him so I _didn’t die_ , obviously.”

“Cisco’s gonna flip. _Hey Cisco-_ ” Barry’s quiet for a second, and when neither of them hear a response he shrugs. “Guess he’s out. I’ll make sure to tell him for you.”

“Yeah, Oliver said Cisco helped put him away, so he might already know. I’ve got kind of a braggy boyfriend, you know.”

“If he _didn’t_ brag about you, I’d be worried.”

“How’s the situation with Cold? I mean - is he going to tell everyone?”

“Actually, we put him away too. He’s in Iron Heights now. He killed someone. I mean he did it for a kind of good reason, but murder is murder.”

“And that person… that wasn’t you, right? You’re not like calling me from the dead, right?”

“No. He only shot me to protect his sister.”

“From you?”

“No. From his father.”

He doesn’t have to say much more, Felicity gets it. The Snart’s dad, well… she’s seen the tapes of them, she can only imagine what their dad is like. And if Cold was scared enough of him to shoot Barry…

“Lisa - um - she… has this scar… from her dad. Said he’d hit her with a bottle… do you…?”

Felicity takes a shaky breath. Normally this is an off-limits topic, but she tells him because it’s _Barry_ , and the topic of her father is one he’s slowly coming to understand. And she’s letting him - letting him in. He’s one of the few people who gets to hear these stories, and she’s only told a selective few.

Her mother. Dig. Oliver. And now Barry. Cooper had known too, but… she’d rather not dwell on that.

“Uh..” her breathing is irregular and she lets out a nervous laugh. “No. No, not - not a bottle. Nope. Never had one of those thrown at me.”

 

...

 

Her wording is very specific. Barry can tell that. Maybe there are still some skeletons in her closet that she’s not quite ready to reveal yet, and he’s okay with that. Because if he’s allowed to still be learning how to trust, she is too.

Still, he wants to tell her that she’s safe now. Her father can’t hurt her anymore. But, from what he’s heard, people have been telling her that her entire life, so he’s not going to. There’s a bitter kind of irony in that, while Felicity is currently happier than him, there are more things that can take her mood from a 10 to a -2.

Barry has one: his mother.

(And the byline. The name on the byline. For the article about his death) (but no one really knows about that)

He used to have two, but his father is freed and calls him almost everyday and things are good. Things are really, really good. Well, as good as they can be when his mood is always kind of at a 4, but at least it’s constant. At least he doesn’t have very many triggers anymore.

(Thunderstorms are one, but they’re usually not that bad when he has Iris by his side to talk him down) (he used to have more- others, but most of them have dissipated in the past few years).

“That’s- that’s good. He, um. He put a bomb in Lisa’s neck.”

“Is he dead?”

Yeah, there’s a reason they don’t talk about the extremities of this very often. Felicity has a… grayer conscience when it comes to abusive parents.

“Yeah… uh, she killed him.”

“Good.”

“ _Felicity._ You don’t mean that.”

She’s too quiet on the other end for that answer to be good.

“Barry, I know you don’t truly agree with me on this, but trust me on this, guys like that deserve to die.”

“I trust you.”

“But you don’t believe me?”

“We’re allowed to disagree.”

“Just trust me.”

“I _do_ trust you, Felicity.”

“Promise me?”

“I promise.”

“I’m telling you all this _bona fide_.”

“I know. Faith and trust and all that.”

“And pixie dust?” She guesses.

Barry can’t help the smile that overtakes his face. “That too.”

“So about that kiss...”

“ _Nothing happened_ , Felicity.”

“I can’t believe you got me all excited for nothing. You know, just because _you_ think nothing happened that doesn’t mean _Iris_ thinks nothing happened.”

“ _I’m serious._ ”

“Me too.”

“ _Bye, Felicity._ ”

“Bye, Barry.”

 


	4. Quixotic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're both confused and sad and slightly nostalgic.  
> They're also both beginning to realize they're not quite as similar as they'd thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so in my defense last week i was too busy and yesterday i was pretty much loopy passed-out sick  
> hopefully you're all not _too_ mad at me. i promise i'll try not to skip a week as much as possible, but every now and then it happens.  
>  heavy mentions of ray palmer, but that makes sense since her main arc in 4x05 centered around him. also heavy mentions of patty spivot. heavy allusions to me being pissed barricity wasn't midgame :)

Quixotic

{having foolish and impractical ideas of honor, or unrealistic optimism} {after Don Quixote, a half-crazy reformer and knight of the supposed distressed, in a novel by the same name}

 

Barry kisses Patty and his eyesight comes back.

One might call it magic. But it’s not… magical. It’s not more magical or less magical than any other kiss he’s had (the erased timeline kiss excepted, of course). It’s just… there.

Barry kisses Patty and suddenly he can see again and he’s not quite sure how or why or what kind of feeling he’s getting about it. But he likes kissing her, he decides. It’s nice.

Patty feels like a warm cup of something when he’s been stuck outside in the rain for hours. She feels like crawling up under the covers when he’s sick. She feels like… comfort, maybe? Like warmth and familiarity and easiness.

She’s smart and brave and she understands his references and he likes the way his hands feel in hers. But he’s not sure how he actually _feels._ He can’t articulate it. There’s not a word in English for this type of feeling.

Barry kisses Patty and it feels just like a kiss and nothing else, but he doesn’t really need anything else right now. He loves how she could lead him around the city while he couldn’t see and still manage to light up everything they came across.

He loves a lot of things about her, but the word he wants to use to describe how he feels about her isn’t quite love. It’s something, but it isn’t quite love.

“How did your date with Patty go?” Iris asks over coffee at breakfast the next morning.

She’s been living back at home all summer, and it’s been great. It feels like they’re making up for the months of time they’d lost together when he was in his coma. He likes having his best friend.

“Oh,” he starts, stirring his frootloops and not wanting to answer. “It was actually really good. She- she recognized I was blind like halfway through and was totally fine with it.”

“ _Oh._ That’s- that’s _great._ ”

The word “great” does not go unnoticed, and he’s trying very hard not to let it give him some sort of feelings. He remembers the revelation from last year, that when she says _great_ it always means the opposite, but he can’t deal with this, not now. Not when things are just beginning with Patty. He can’t have that constant reminder that Iris feels some sort of way for him. Because he knows where that leads.

It leads to a name on a byline on an article about his own death. It leads to a future that Barry is determined not to have. But the path he’s heading down right now, the one with Patty, it’s… it’s good to say the least.

It’s good.

Barry gives her a look.

Iris plays innocent.

“You think you’ll go out again.”

“Yeah. We’re actually planning on going out again on Sunday.”

“That’s-” Barry can practically _see_ Iris stop herself from using the word _great_ , “that’s really good for you Barry. I’m happy for you.”

The funniest part is he knows she actually means it. Sometime since their almost-kiss a few weeks back they’ve come to some silent agreement that they’ll just ignore whatever’s simmering under the surface between them. Also, well, she’s been spending a lot of time with Linda lately.

He should feel more uncomfortable with his ex-girlfriend and the girl he’s been in love with for most of his life becoming suddenly best friends, but they’re actually really good together.

And maybe it’s just his encounter with Dr. Light earlier this week, but he’s determined to do things better with Patty than he had with Linda. There’s a fair amount of pain that goes along with thinking about his relationship with her, kind of like when he thinks about the romantic side of his relationship with Felicity. So many paths he could never fully go down because he was still holding out for Iris.

He can’t do that anymore, though. He’s got to let go, move on. He has to just let go and give himself fully to this thing he has going on with Patty. It’s not fair to her otherwise. He can’t try and make himself believe he’s moving on in his head if his heart isn’t on board.

So Barry’s trying, he really is.

(He’s just not exactly sure how he’s feeling).

 

...

Felicity sits at her desk and replays Ray’s message over and over and over again.

 _He’s alive._ He’s alive. _He’s alive._

She can’t believe it. It seems impossible, really. She’d just seen Sara returned to them earlier that day, but still this astounds her. His being alive astounds her.

(The fact that she’s still feeling an insurmountable kind of guilt also astounds her).

She waits by her computer, and sneaks glances at her phone with the hope that some other message will show up, some sign of his whereabouts. She’s been scanning traffic cameras non-stop since she first heard the message, but there’s still no sign. Just like there was no sign six months ago when she’d first heard of his death and spent almost a week holed up in their hotel with her laptop searching for any remote sign that Ray’s death was a fluke, that this was some secret plan and that he was actually alive.

(She thinks that’s around the time Oliver had let go of the jealousy) (seeing her hunched over like that must’ve aroused some sort of pity in him) (and him knowing the reasoning behind her guilt) (the feeling like she’d abandoned him) (just like she’d once been abandoned) (maybe that had something to do with it too).

She still hasn’t told Oliver yet, though. She knows what he’s just going to say. He’s going to try and convince her that all of this isn’t her fault, and she knows she’ll let him.

She’d let him for months, and that had been why she’d been so utterly _blissfully_ happy this summer, but then they’d driven back into the city and she’d seen Ray’s picture on the billboard and had to step into his shoes and into his office and it had all fell back onto her shoulders again.

And now, well now she’s not sure what to think.

The guilt’s still here, tremendously so, and there’s got to be a _reason_ Ray’s been pretending to be dead for so long, and she’s assuming the worst. (She can’t help it, really).

The formula still applies, though, whether he’s dead or kidnapped or just not able to reveal himself to the world. She was selfish, she wanted someone to make her feel loved, she played with his feelings, she let him think they could always depend on each other, and then when she no longer needed him she left.

(Oliver continuously disagreed with this argument). (Eventually she stopped bringing it up to him) (mostly because he’d always manage to convince her the formula wasn’t real) (that her trying to find happiness and move on from him was not the direct cause of Ray’s death) (that she’s not the kind of person to just _use_ people) ( _oh, but she_ is).

Felicity sits in her office and replays Ray’s tape and _cannot stop crying._ And, truth be told, she’s not quite sure if it’s because she’s happy he’s alive or absolutely crushed at the re-realization that what’s happened is her fault or scared.

(Okay, she’s slightly more than scared) (she’s absolutely terrified that he’s not going to forgive her) (and she doesn’t know if she can stomach that) (she doesn’t know if she can stomach him never forgiving her because then that means she grew up to be just like her father) (abandoning someone in their time of need in such a way that they will never forgive you).

She’s not sure if her hands are shaking because the November chill is getting to her even through those thick windows on her left, or because suddenly thinking about what she’s done is making her body wracked with sobs.

On second thought, it’s probably the second thing because she’s definitely crying now and really anyone could just walk in and see their CEO crying. But maybe if they’d stick around long enough to recognize the voice whose words are on repeat, they might understand.

Someone might understand, for once.

(But she really doubts it).

She can barely recognize the ring tone she’s set up for the one person who might understand. That special theme from the Man From Uncle that they’d spent _days_ fixated on. She almost ignores Barry Allen’s phone call because she’s so determined he’s not going to understand.

(Spoiler alert: he doesn’t).

At first, she’s thinking he’s calling with good news, because he opens with “I went on a date last night.” and she’s thinking maybe, finally, all these months of him and Iris skirting around each other have payed off and they’re getting together and making the world a little brighter place.

But it turns out, his definition of good news and hers are not quite on the same page.

(It’s strange, she once used to say they were always on the same page of everything) (they were two words, _maybe_ and _almost_ put in subsequential order in the middle of a romance novel no one was ever going to read) (now… especially now with Ray’s not-so-death hanging over her, she thinks differently).

“I can’t believe Iris didn't’ tell me!” she nearly screams into the phone, trying as best as she can to not reveal to him that she’s been crying.

“That’s because… it wasn’t with Iris?”

That’s around the time Felicity decides she’s upset with Barry Allen. That’s around the time Felicity decides she can’t allow the past to repeat itself. Soulmates are soulmates. People who get in the way of that just end up hurt.

And they’re never to blame for their own pain. Because it’s always some foolish desire to feel _wanted_ ’s fault.

“Who’d you go out with then?”

“Patty Spivot. Remember, I told you about her? The girl with the Monty Python reference.”

Oh yes, Felicity remembers her now. The _other_ blond nerd in Barry’s life. The one Felicity’s fairly sure she has some sort of vendetta against without even meeting her because she’s slightly territorial and not only that they’re supposed to be on the same page and now they’re not on the same page because _Patty._

They suffered together last year, they were supposed to be happy together this year.

She’d thought maybe things were finally getting there, with the almost-kiss from Iris a few weeks ago and Barry’s conversation about said kiss meant things were going well in Central City.

She guesses she was wrong.

“Barry,” she’s not quite sure how to phrase this because she knows the feeling of wanting to feel wanted but- “did you go out with her because you have feelings for her or did you go out with her because she was there and willing?”

“I don’t _know_ , Felicity. To be honest, I don’t know a lot lately. But isn’t this how you’re supposed to do it? Move on, I mean?”  
“I don’t know how you’re _supposed_ to do, Barry. All I know is that _I went through this,_ last year, with Ray. And what happens when you - for the lack of a better word - _use someone_ like that, it ends with you relying on them and them relying on you and then one day, it’s going to end and one of you is going to need the other one and they’re not going to be there anymore.”

“Felicity, I’m not you and Patty’s not Ray.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not going to happen. Tell me Barry, does this feel endgame?”

 _“I don’t know._ ”

“Not can you picture yourself ending up with her, not is this the most rational choice, Barry, I’m asking how it _feels_ in your gut.”

He groans and she realizes she might be pushing him too hard. She just wants to make sure he’s not making the same mistake she had. Especially with the knowledge that Ray’s alive, out there, somewhere. Ray’s alive, but he’s been gone, outcast, stranded somewhere for months and it’s still all her fault.

If she hadn’t gone over to his place that night when Oliver left for Nanda Parbat, if she hadn’t let that innuendo slip out not-quite-accidentally when she’d _known_ he had feelings for her, if she hadn’t kissed him just to feel _wanted_ again, if she hadn’t let him lean on her, then maybe he wouldn’t have needed her when she wasn’t there.

Maybe he wouldn’t be where he is now.

Maybe she wouldn’t have _grieved for him._

If she can prevent that happening a second time in Central City, she’s going to _try to._ She _needs to at least try_.

“You could at least try to pretend to be happy for me, you know. Iris did.”

She resents that implication, but to be fair, she stopped trying to pretend to be happy about pretty much _everything_ about five minutes ago, so if her tone is a little clipped on this subject he can’t blame her. After all, it’s not like Barry would understand.

“Oh wow, Barry, I’m _so happy for you_. Everything sounds just _great_.”

“I can’t tell if you’re mocking me or Iris.”

“Well I’m not mad at Iris.”

“ _Felicity_.”

“You’re making a mistake Barry. A terrible mistake and it’s going to end up with someone hurt and let me tell you it’s not going to be you because one day Iris is just going to turn around and tell you to run away with her and you’re going to say yes because you _always say yes_ and you’re just going to throw Patty away because you’re done with whatever you were using her for because _that’s the kind of people we are, Barry._ _And I’m not letting you do this._ ”

 _“Letting me?_ Felicity, you don’t get to _let me_ do _anything._ We’re not as similar as you keep saying we are, you know.”

“Maybe we aren’t then!” She’s angry at him. So angry, and she can’t really pinpoint why. She can’t, not until she’s wondering why this is bothering her now when she’s sure she would’ve been all for it last week, and then it hits her. “You know what,” she starts, calming down a bit. “You’re right; I’m not you and Patty’s not Ray, and that’s exactly the problem here.”

See this, this she knows he’s going to understand. They only talk about it like once a month. It is the _definition_ of the _almost_ and _maybe_ on the same page.

“Maybe if you had been Ray and I had been Patty this wouldn’t be happening now.”

“Felicity…” he prods, and she knows now the sobs in her voice have been made obvious to him. He knows now she’s been crying. “ _What happened?_ ”

“There’s a- a recording I found and it’s… it’s Ray’s final words before the explosion and the good news is that he’s not actually dead but the bad news is now he’s going to hate me, Barry. He’s going to hate me because I used him and hurt him and left him when he needed me and this would never have happened if it was you instead of him because you could never hate me, Barry. You would never hate me, right?”

“What I know, Felicity, is that you’re being a little _Quixotic_ about this whole thing.”

“Funny, coming from Mr. Moving On here.”

“ _If_ it had been us instead of them, you know someone would’ve still gotten hurt, right? We’re not perfect, Felicity. We’re _human_. And I’d like to think I’d have cared about you enough by then to still be hurt when you literally drove off into the sunset with Oliver.”

She smiles at that.

Well, it’s not really a smile, but it’s close. More like the flicker of something she’d felt when she’d typed in “password” and remembered a night she’d been blocking from her memory ever since she’d heard the news of the explosion.

(It’s still her fault, though) (even Barry can’t talk her out of this one).

“Well, if _I’m_ not allowed to be _Quixotic_ about us, I’d say _you’re_ not allowed to be _Quixotic_ about Patty. She’s not a savior, Barry, she’s human.” She’s also quite possibly Felicity’s new nemesis, but she’s not going to bring that up right now.

“I promise. Just… let me know how things go on the Ray front, okay? He’s a good guy, Felicity, with a good heart, and he’ll forgive you. I promise.”

Barry doesn’t mention the fact that he thinks she has done nothing that needs forgiving, and Felicity’s grateful for that. She knows he’s thinking it, through. And she’s okay with that. Her and Barry are allowed to be separate entities.

“Bye, Felicity.”

“Bye, Barry.”

And just like that he’s gone, and the recording of Ray is still playing in the background, and her searches have no results and Felicity realizes, for all her talk of happiness, she feels truly alone.

She goes home.

She can do that now.

Now she has a home to go to and a boyfriend who loves her and then, later, a pseudo-family who supports her and she’s no longer quite so alone when Barry hangs up the phone.

Felicity considers that somewhat of a victory on her part.


	5. Pearl of Great Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Felicity try to understand the people who mean the most to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shh i know this is late. don't blame me.  
> also moving the rating up this chapter for the olicity scene at the beginning. probably isn't that bad, i just want to be safe.

Pearl of Great Price

_{something so precious that one would devote everything to or give up everything for} {In one of Jesus' parables, the kingdom of heaven is compared to a pearl of great price, or value, found by a merchant}_

 

Felicity lays in her bed with Oliver’s arms wrapped around her and tries very very hard to think of some place she’d rather be.

(It’s very hard) (but also at the same time not that hard). (She doesn’t want to leave Oliver’s side, so that rules out anywhere without him) (but if they could move as a unit) (if they could go anywhere together, well, she’d go anywhere with him then) (but isn’t that what had gotten her into this mess in the first place?)

She also tries very hard to not hate herself for almost giving this up. She tries very hard not to see herself as ruined for what the losses of her father and Cooper and everyone else have installed in her. She tries very hard to think that she’s deserving of all that she has right now.

She tries not to repeat her argument from earlier.

Her thought process had been brought out of fear and regret and it had gone something like this:

He’d made her weak. Weak and pliable and putty in his hands and it had been _wonderful._ He hadn’t just knocked on her walls like everyone else, but he’d steamrolled them all in one fatal blow that had left her _floating_. He’d taken her walls away, and she wasn’t sure what was left of her without them. (She wasn’t sure if what’s inside her hadn’t floated away and left her as nothing but a cloud of his love) (she wasn’t sure what could possibly be left of her now if things fell apart) (she was scared she’d end up lost and floating like her mother) (the exact opposite of what she’d strived for since childhood).

She knows better now.

(It doesn’t mean she thinks she’s any more deserving of him).

Oliver is… wonderful.

He envelops her now, warm and heavy and far too sleepy, and for the first time it doesn’t scare her even a bit.

She brings their intertwined hands up to her mouth to give them a kiss. He hums little in response. She decides to test how sleepy he really is. They’ve already gone two rounds but can probably manage one more, so she takes the side of his wrist into her mouth and bites a little. Oliver stifles a groan.

(She’d discovered this was a Thing - capital T - for them about two days into the road trip when he’d buried his face in her collarbone and taken out his teeth and _holy shit that felt good._ )

He flips her over so her short hair is splayed against the brightly patterned sheets of their bed and she wonders if maybe it’s asking too much of the world for her to just be able to hang here in this moment and never let her go. Because well… the way he looks at her kind of makes her shiver all over and also makes her want to melt into this bed with him and never leave.

(At least with the look he’s giving her right now she doubts she’ll be leaving this bed for a while).

When she kisses him it’s with all the force she can muster because she’s still working through some self-hatred for almost ruining things with him earlier and he makes her feel a little less worthless.

She likes kissing him when both of their hair is short because he’ll twist his fingers between her hair and tilt her head up as he pushes them both into the bed and slide his tongue around hers in that way that makes her feel like she’s made of Jell-O.

(Laurel had confided in her one time last year) (when they’d both been alone and tired of losing people after Nanda Parbat) (that she’d been the one to teach him that) ( _“Oliver was never any good at sex until the women he slept with taught him how to be”_ she’d said and Felicity had laughed and then Laurel had raised her glass of sparkling cider and clinked it with Felicity’s glass full of wine and commented that at least _someone’s happiness_ had come out of Oliver’s constant cheating when they were in college) (Felicity had also laughed at that) (and blushed a little because she gets weak in the knees from something that came from Laurel and those thoughts were not meant for drinking wine with beautiful women in dark lipstick and talking about sex) ( _nope_ ).

She likes the way it feels when his chest rocks against hers and pins her to the sheets with that overwhelming sense of _home._ She likes how, when she moves in just the right way, he ends up breathing out her name in the way that almost sounds like salvation. She likes _him._ And he likes _her._ And isn’t that enough?

It feels like enough.

This feels like enough and- _holy shit he should do that again._

Oliver likes to laugh when she talks in bed. She cusses a lot too. He was relatively surprised by that the first time around. He laughs in the way that starts as a low rumble in his chest and travels up to his collarbone and reverberates all through her body and honestly the sight of Oliver Queen laughing is quite possibly the hottest thing she’s ever seen.

(Even better than the salmon ladder) (which he’s taken to placing right in front of her workspace) (one day she’s going to have to yell at him because she can’t focus on _anything_ when he’s just sitting there in front of her like that with his _stupid_ smirk that she wants to wipe off his _stupid_ face).

“My face is _not_ stupid.” Oliver scoffs.

“It’s pretty stupid.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, it’s pretty _and_ stupid. Is that better?”

“Maybe,” he responds, moving to press butterfly kisses down her neck. “But only if your face gets to be pretty and stupid too.”

“ _Oliver Queen?_ ” she manages, breathless, “Did you just call me stupid?”

“I called your _face_ stupid,” he gives her that terrible _stupid_ wolfish grin from where his face sits on her stomach, his hot breath tickling her but just barely. “Not your mind. Your brain is… you’re _wonderful_ , Felicity.”

She nudges him with her foot. “You’re making it very hard to tease you right now.”

Oliver quirks an eyebrow.

She _hates him_ for that.

“I love you.” she manages between the heavy breaths.

She doesn’t need to hear his response, she can just feel it, hanging in the thick fog around her that she’d been so terrified of getting lost in. This - this is _everything_.

 

Barry is high on painkillers.

He is also about to pass out.

Iris is not on painkillers. She is laughing at him. A lot. It’s very distracting. And not very funny.

Cisco and Caitlin had whipped _something_ up that is withstanding his super speed, and, well, Barry had never really had a high tolerance before the super speed to begin with, so it may be working a little too well.

He’s _trying_ to say Iris, but his _s_ ’s are slurring and so it’s coming out a lot more like “ _Irishhhhh”_ and she is _laughing at him_ and it’s only getting worse as he continues saying her name.

She sticks her hand over his mouth.

“Shhh, Barry.” Iris says, obviously trying to keep herself from breaking down at his inability to pronounce _anything_ in this state. “I’m not supposed to be in here, remember?”

“That’sh becaushe Wellsh ish a dickkk.”

Iris’ laugh sounds like sunshine. She is something special on her own entirely. And he’d keep talking forever just to keep her laughing (even if she _is_ laughing at _him_ ) because it warms him down to his bones and feels like coming home.

“Well, at least Caitlin’s got my back,” she tells him. “And she’s the _real_ doctor here, so that’s what counts, right? I mean, in a court of law Earth 2 Wells _technically_ isn’t a doctor on this Earth, so really I’m allowed to be in here if I want to be.”

His eyes are beginning to close, he can feel it, but he forces them open with whatever remaining super speed he has because he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to stay here and make Iris laugh, and it may seem a pretty goal, but it’s his anyways.

“You have a halo.” he says, and Iris laughs again, and he tries to explain that the lights above his bed go all hazy around her head, because he _knows_ the science behind it, but he gets stuck on the word _particles_ and ends up just going on a long slightly-Felicity-ish rant about how it’s not fair she’s allowed to be beautiful and say everything correctly while he gets to be beaten up and not able to say what he wants to.

Iris turns away from him at that, probably so he won’t see her blushing. But he does see.

“You know, you shouldn’t be calling me beautiful, Barry. You _have_ a girlfriend.”

“But you’re beautiful wheffer or not I have a girlfriend. I don’t undershtand what that hashh to do with anyffing.”

He blinks again so Iris doesn’t go all fuzzy around the edges.

Everything feels all fuzzy around the edges, though. He’s sure some line was blurred about five minutes ago, back when he was trying to tell her about how the last time he was in this bed for this long he was in his coma and how he hopes she’s his first thought when he wakes up again.

Iris’ face is a nice first thought to have.

It’s his first thought of the day a lot more times than he’s willing to admit.

“You know, Patty would be here if she could.”

Barry doesn’t understand. Why is Iris talking about Patty? Patty doesn’t know he’s hurt. Or here. But Iris is here. And she knows he’s hurt. Why are they talking about his girlfriend again?

“But she _can’t_ be. That would be bad.”

He can feel his head nodding solemnly, but he’s not really sure why.

Iris cracks a smile at that. She smiles like sunshine too. He wonders if maybe she’s made of sunshine. That would make a lot of sense.

Lightning and sunshine.

Wait no. That’s not right. Iris isn’t just sunshine. She’s something different. She’s something better. She’s…

He’s reluctant to call her his _everything_ , because he may be out of it, but he’s not _that_ out of it, and that’s crossing some sort of line that _hasn’t_ gone all fuzzy around the edges. Iris is… she’s his something. She’s not his everything though. He can’t let that be a thing.

(It’s already a thing, though) (and he thinks he knows that, somewhere in the back of his mind). (It just can’t be a thing that he accepts) (because accepting that means accepting that sometime he is going to die and leave Iris alone again) (and he’s at least aware enough to know that that would be a Bad Thing) (capital B, capital T).

“Uh huh.” she nods, agreeing with him. (What was she agreeing about again? He can’t remember). And then Iris leans over, kisses his forehead like she had before he’d run off to go fail to save his mother, and pulls his blankets back up to his collarbone and tells him to get some sleep.

He doesn’t close his eyes until she leaves.

He refuses to miss a second of her.

 

Iris calls Felicity at five in the morning with news about Barry. She immediately buys a train ticket to Central City.

Oliver wants to come with her, but he has a meeting with his campaign manager, and she’s sure Barry really doesn’t want Oliver to see him all hurt like this (he still looks up to him a lot, despite everything that’s happened in the past year), so she tells him she’ll be fine on her own and she makes the two hour journey herself.

It feels like it takes days.

She sits on the train and moves her leg up and down impatiently and tries to code and tries to read but absolutely cannot because she is overcome with worry and guilt and fear.

(Fear seems to be a large part of her life this week).

Iris meets her at the train station, dark eyes filled with the same worry Felicity knows is reflected in her own, and they don’t really talk much besides the greeting, just walk in silence until they get to STAR Labs.

“He’s sleeping.” Iris warns, squeezing Felicity’s hand gently and then leaving the room.

It might be to give them some space to talk, Felicity doesn’t know. Iris wasn’t here the last time she did this.

He looks so peaceful like this, seemingly untroubled by the broken world around them. It’s fucking terrifying. This - laying at his bedside just listening to him breathing - reminds her too much of those weekends when she’d take the train to Central City and hold his hand and tell him about her week while he lay unconscious in his coma in this exact same bed, when he could do nothing but breathe in response.

She knows she should just leave and come back later when he’s awake, but she’s paralyzed by the same fear that held her here back then: _what if he dies when she leaves?_

It’s a quite ridiculous fear for the current circumstances, but it’s what keeps her by his side until he wakes up.

(Maybe that’s also why she begins talking to him before he’s even awake to register her words) (Barry knows so many more of her secrets than he even realizes) (from the months where he was the only one she told anything) (because people who can’t wake up also can’t hurt you) (maybe that’s why she could trust him so much when he did eventually wake up) (because he’d already broke the past few years’ record of not breaking her heart).

“Hi, Felicity,” he croaks when he finally does.

She just grips his hand tighter.

“How’s Ray?”

“Barry Allen, you are lying in a bed because a supervillain from a different dimension - who you didn’t even _tell me about_ , by the way - hurt you so badly your super-healing is taking longer than a few hours and you’re asking me if _Ray is okay?_ ”

She’s fairly sure if Barry could shrug his shoulders he would, since that’s usually his reaction when she says something like this but he can’t because he’s _hurt so badly_ and that’s around the time she realizes this is the first time she’s seen him in person since he rescued her from Nanda Parbat six months ago.

She’d be hugging him right now if she wasn’t afraid she might break him.

(It’s funny, she used to be the fragile one in this relationship) (she used to be the one he was afraid of touching for fear she might crumble to dust and now look at them) (he’s lying hurt and hopeless and she’s the one who dropped everything to come see him).

“Is Ray okay?” he repeats.

“Ray’s fine. He’s alive and safe and actually crashing with Curtis, which probably is causing some sort of drama over at the Holt house, but, you know, I couldn’t really have him stay with Oliver and I because _oh boy would that be awkward._ Still, you know, I’m glad to have him back. It feels… it feels right. It feels like I’m _finally doing something right for once_ and- Sorry, Barry, how are _you?_ ”

“No,” he says, “keep going. I like hearing you ramble. There have been too many worried people around this bed today.”

“But I’m _worried about you_ , Barry. I can’t - You’re going to be okay, right?”

“Super healing,” he grimaces, “remember? It’s just taking a little longer than usual.”

“I don’t mean here,” she says, rolling her eyes and patting his arm, “I mean in _here_.” Felicity drags a few fingers across his forehead.

“You sound like Linda.”

“Ah yes, the elusive Linda Park, who you said you would introduce me to but never did and then told me you broke up with to be with Iris only to drop that Patty bomb on me last week. When _am I_ going to get to meet her.”

“Hey Linda,” Barry calls, much to Felicity’s shock, “I have someone who wants to meet you.”

“I didn’t mean _now_ ,” Felicity tries to protest, but it’s to no avail, because a gorgeous woman with equally short hair comes rounding the corner and nearly trips up when their eyes meet.

“Linda,” he starts, still laying back in his bed and using that voice that Felicity knows he only uses when he’s doing something he’s about to regret, “this is Felicity-”

“Felicity Smoak.” Linda says, through a strangled sort of tone. “Oh, um, wow! I’ve heard so much about you.”

“From Barry I’m guessing?” Felicity asks. She’s not quite sure how Linda feels about her, she keeps trying to gauge it and it keeps slipping through her fingers.

“Not Barry, no. From Iris.”

Well, that probably means it’s definitely good things, because Iris is an actual angel (not that Felicity really believes in angels, but if she did she’d like to think Iris would be a close approximation to one).

“Can I…” Linda stumbles over her words for a second before regaining control of her voice, “do you think I could interview you?”

“What? _Me?_ ”

“Yes, you. You’re the youngest female CEO of a mutli-billion dollar corporation in like _ever._ Not only that, you’re pretty much best friends with your boyfriend’s notorious ex-girlfriend, whose _sister_ got shipwrecked when she was screwing him. You’re complex and _amazing_ and also, rumor has it, connected with some heroics going on in Star City - which I would leave out of my article, of course, but Iris and I have been _dying_ to interview you.”

“You’re _serious_?”

“Absolutely.”

Barry moans from his bed. The painkillers Iris said he’d taken seem to be wearing off.

“I’ll go get Caitlin.” Linda says, but not before inputting something into her phone really quickly.

Felicity's’ phone suddenly has Linda’s contact number.

_Call me._ Linda mouths.

Felicity smiles at that.

“So…” she starts, walking back to Barry’s bedside. “Your ex-girlfriend’s pretty cool.”

“She’s more Iris’ friend these days than my ex-girlfriend.”

“So I see. Are you going to wait until you break up with Patty to introduce me to her too?”

And there it is. The thing they’ve been tip-toeing around since last week. Felicity’s still not on board with Patty. Both of them deserve better than whatever half-ass attempt at romance Barry is trying to play out here.

“I’m going back to sleep.” Barry says, trying to pull one of his blankets over his head and then failing because he’s still too sore to move.

“Uh uh,” Felicity replies. “We’re talking about this.”

 

Barry does not want to talk about this.

Barry wants to go back to sleep.

Barry also wants Caitlin to shoot him up with that pain medicine again because it hurts a lot to move and it hurts even more to look Felicity in the eyes when she’s staring at him like that because he feels like he’s staring into the sun.

(To be fair, some of that might have to do with the fact that the same sun that had been reflecting off of Iris’ hair earlier is now reflecting off of Felicity’s, which is blinding enough already without the extra addition of her scrutinizing gaze.

“You’re feeling guilty about something.”

He hates her for knowing that. Iris would notice, if she’d just look him in the eyes long enough. She’s not doing that too much now. He doesn’t blame her.

Barry could hide it from her, he really could, but just because he’s already said enough without a filter today, he thinks he might as well add one more thing to the pile.

“My mother I- I didn’t save her and it doesn’t feel right. I can’t help but think… that’s what was supposed to happen, right? I was supposed to save her and I failed and now Eddie and Ronnie are dead and everyone’s in danger every day and Zoom… well, you see what he’s done.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Yeah, but at least you have Oliver.”

He can see it dawn in Felicity’s  eyes, can see her make the connection between the bread crumbs he’s left for her. He really doesn’t want to talk about this now, not when he just wants to crawl under the covers and hide from whatever painfully blinding truth Felicity’s about to uncover, but he lets her know anyways, because he’s never really been good at hiding the little things from her.

“You and- Patty…”

He doesn’t even need to nod his head. She already knows. They both know. Felicity knows better than most what it’s like to try and bury your own guilt and grief into another person, and maybe she was right last week in saying they should’ve buried it in each other, because at least then they’d understand it.

Felicity manages a weak smile, and then sits on the side of his bed, looking up in that way she always does when she starts talking about Oliver.

“I learned something pretty important this week. Something I think I should pass onto you.”

“Does it have anything to do with that red mark on your neck?”

Felicity almost hits him with a pillow. Luckily she reconsiders. Barry’s not really in the mood to get pelted with anything right now. Even if it’s a pillow and he deserves it.

“You’ve got to stop trying to lose yourself in Patty.”

“I’m not- It’s not like that we’re not-” he attempts before basically giving up and resigning himself to “but it’s so _easy_.”

“Barry, love isn’t about losing yourself in a person, it’s about finding yourself in each other. You, Barry, are not finding yourself, what you’re doing is burying your guilt in her. Loving Patty - _saving Patty_ \- it’s not going to bring your mom back, and it’s not going to heal the piece of your soul that is missing; only _you_ can do that.”

Barry groans. She’s missing the point. She’s missing the _entire point._ That’s not the-  He’s not doing this because- Patty means more to him than-

Caitlin gave him some slightly super painkillers earlier. They’re slowing down his thoughts. That’s all it is. Because Felicity’s _not right._ He knows that. She _can’t be._

He’s doing the right thing here. He’s doing what’s right and he’s going about it in the right way and just because Felicity _thinks_ she knows everything that doesn’t mean she does. Just because the world suddenly became filled with hearts and rainbows and true love the moment she drove off into the sunset with Oliver Queen doesn’t mean everyone else’s world is like that.

(He wants to ask her what she’s taking) (and if he can have some of it because honestly he’s in so much pain right now) (both physically and emotionally) (he’d like to be in a place where he can be like Felicity is) (but he can’t ask her that).

“Why are you so anti-Patty?” he settles for.

“She just… isn’t Iris.”

“Why are you so convinced Iris is the one for me?”

“Because, Barry, she’s your _Pearl of Great Price_. People like that don’t come around every day. Don’t give it up when you have the chance to keep it.”


	6. Nemesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe's and Almost's hang over them with the promise that if they'd done things differently they wouldn't be so close to breaking.  
> But they've both seen the Matrix. They know the red pill from the blue one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who's ready for some good old-fashioned could-have-beens in the true allusions style?  
> i'm not even going to pretend this chapter is anything but angst  
> have fun

Nemesis

{just punishment}  {from Nemesis, the greek goddess of punishment and revenge}

Felicity doesn’t really believe in soulmates.

Despite her circumstances, she doesn’t truly trust the idea that two people can be absolutely meant for each other. On principle, she treats love in the practical way that she always has. It keeps her from getting hurt. (It keeps her from being left behind).

But Kendra and Carter have gotten her thinking.

There’s this theory she’s seen floating around that different people were part of different things before whatever was before exploded into whatever is now in the Big Bang. People are made of stars. And some people are made of the same stuff.

She thinks maybe they are - she and Barry. The same piece of stardust runs in their blood. Perhaps it’s the same piece of stardust that has handed them this pile of absolute terrible luck.

It’s probably the thing that has decreed neither of them can be happy for too long. That something is bound to come between them and happiness. And that that something always has to be a lie.

Right now the lie sits between her and Oliver in their bed and it’s still there in the morning when she wakes up without him there.

It’s the first real time that’s happened since they came back.  
He usually knows. He usually remembers there’s always that overwhelming sense of panic that overwhelms her, that he’s finally realized he’s too good for her and left her alone.

She’s woken up and realized she’s been left alone too many times by too many guys in her life.

The worst time, of course, being the time her father tucked her in and then was never seen again. Oliver used to - he usually remembers. He usually makes sure to at least leave a note or something if he’s going out. To remind her she’s never going to have to wake up and worry about being left alone in the dark again.

He’d promised - he’d _promised her_.

(Promises still meant something, right?)

(The truth still meant something, right?)

(The rules of the world didn’t just suddenly change, right?)

Felicity takes a deep breath, steadies herself on the nightstand and tells herself that everything’s alright, that he probably just forgot, that him acting weird in Central City wasn’t him realizing that he could just take off and leave and there wouldn’t really be any consequences.

She’s too in love with him at this point to do anything more than blame herself entirely if he decided to leave her. She pushed him too hard for the truth in Central City. She stopped being interesting. She stopped being loving enough, supportive enough. She mistook annoyance for banter. She didn’t read the signs. She did something wrong.

(She did everything wrong).

(She always does everything wrong).

(This is why she prefers computers to people).

Oliver’s coming back. He has to. He’s different. She let herself lose herself in him. He has to be different. Things have to be different.

(But he’s lying).

She has to be right this time.

She has to be right because if Oliver’s not coming back then that means she messed things up again and now she’s officially lost her last big chance at love.

She’s given up so many other chances for this one. For him. She’s given up everything for him.

The ice walls around her heart. She gave those up. The moat surrounding the castle that is her soul. The key to the lock of her mind. She told him all the stories of everything that ever went wrong in an attempt to let him know all the ways she could fail him.

He stayed through all of those. And long after too. And she was beginning to think maybe this was _it_ for her.

Felicity doesn’t believe in soulmates, but maybe she was starting to.

Although, her and Oliver are definitely not from the same star.

Different stars. Completely opposite stars. Like water and sodium. They create explosions.

She’d thought that was good enough.

(She’d thought _she_ was good enough).

Felicity’s been thinking a lot about soulmates lately and wondering if maybe her instincts had been right in the beginning and the safe choice was the right choice.

She hadn’t listened to her instincts, though, that night in the bar after they’d caught the Dodger, when Oliver Queen had opened his mouth and just _laughed._ And she’d been helpless.

She’s still helpless.

She misses where she was in Central City over a year ago, when she could stand in Barry’s office at CCPD and feel like she had all this control. She felt powerful. She felt wanted. She most importantly did not feel helpless.

She wonders if maybe she’d made the wrong choice that night on the train, when she’d brought up Iris. She wonders if maybe they’d both have been more content if they’d tricked themselves into loving each other instead.

She wonders if maybe that’s what a soulmate is. Maybe Kendra went with Carter because she wasn’t strong enough to fight for her and Cisco. And she’d rather be safe and mostly happy than in danger and ecstatic.

( _I don’t want to be safe, I want to be with you_ ).

But she’d resigned herself to feeling ecstatic instead.

For every action there’s an equal opposite reaction. She should know that by now. Maybe this is the opposite reaction maybe…

Her phone buzzes. She’s still gripping the nightstand, finger joints white with worry. Oliver’s still not back yet.

Her phone buzzes and it’s Barry.

Felicity wonders if maybe this is her _Nemesis_ for the choice she made. To have Oliver be distant and Barry be so close and yet Oliver’s the one she loves and Barry’s the one she doesn’t.

If Kendra and Carter find each other in every lifetime, maybe they can too. Maybe they’re from the same star. Their essences intertwined with the same strings of matter. Maybe when the sun explodes and the world ends they’ll find their way back to each other after being separated since the start of time. Maybe when they burn they’ll burn the same color. The same brilliant blue.

The same blue of the train where he’d left her behind.

The same blue of the sky when he’d held her hand and walked her through the park and she’d wondered if maybe happiness could taste like fall air and the smell of food trucks and the way he looked at her.

The same blue of his cold fingers as she’d sat at his bedside and just wished he’d wake up.

The same blue of the bruises his lips had left on her heart that still haven’t totally healed. That still sometimes ache when he does things like break his back and not tell her.

They don’t need Vandal Savage to keep them away from each other, they do that just fine on their own. They don’t need to be killed 206 times to know they’re not right for each other, either.

(Not right) (just perfectly perfect) (too right to be right) (too perfect of a fit to be real) (too fitting of a conclusion to a mess of a story) (too easy of a solution to a complicated problem).

Oliver’s not here and he’s lying to her and her phone is ringing and Barry’s on the Caller ID.

Felicity picks it up.

 

...

 

Barry messed up. He messed up badly.

Because Felicity didn’t sound quite alright when she’d picked up the phone. And he’d thought it was because of Oliver’s child but then the knowledge that she didn’t know took him by surprise and pierced him in two and he doesn’t know what to do.

Felicity taking the paper from his hands and recognizing Oliver’s DNA is better than this. Her finding out on her own is better than this. Her being able to know that things can be salvaged was better than this.

(Barry has no idea how Oliver plans to salvage things after this).

(Felicity’s going to be wrecked) (Felicity’s going to not only have her heart broken but her trust as well) (Felicity’s going to…) (well he doesn’t know what she’s going to do) (he hadn’t seen her after her father left) (the only pain comparable to what she’s going to go through eventually) (he can’t know). (Barry doesn’t know). (Something’s going to happen to Felicity and it’s going to break her worse than he’s ever seen) (even worse than last winter) (last winter when she’d isolated herself from the world and cried so hard she’d started laughing away her bitter tears).

Once again, Barry finds himself wishing he could take her into his arms and keep her safe and alive and okay. Once again, Barry finds himself blaming himself for this whole situation. Not for the telling Oliver about the breakup thing, because that had been a warning that Oliver hadn’t listened to, but for letting Felicity walk away from him in the first place.

Patty was brought into danger the other day because of him.

Patty is dangerously close to being another casualty in his life. He can’t believe he was selfish enough to think dating someone outside of the hero life wouldn’t end badly.

But Felicity- He could’ve lost himself in Felicity and he wouldn’t have had to worry about her hating him for what he is. For what he’s done. They’re both broken in kind of the same way.

Barry has the power to go back in time, but he won’t let himself use it again. Even though the only thing he wants right now is to change the past. He wants to stop himself from taking what they had and turning it on it’s head so now for him it’s the feeling of swinging and missing a monkey bar and cursing. That feeling of being late by just one second. The feeling of tripping and falling but catching yourself.

(Isn’t that what had happened though?) (They’d been close to falling but had caught themselves). (They had been right on the edge and yet somehow hadn’t fallen into it) (and now all he’s wishing is that they had) (because he can’t handle watching this all fall apart and being able to do nothing about it) (he can’t handle watching his friends’ happiness dissolve into madness).

He wants to stop himself from letting her be the one that got away.

But Barry didn’t just let her be the one that got away. Because she didn’t go away, he was the one to do that. And he didn’t even go.

He ran.

Barry ran and left her and didn’t give them a chance. Something made him run. The same thing that made him fast in the first place most likely.

_(You deserve to be happy_ ) (she says) (he doesn’t remind her she could’ve been last year if not for him) (he doesn’t remind her he faked a smile and ran away from the girl terrified of being left alone because there was too much of a _something_ in the air) (and he couldn’t handle it) (and now that _something_ is just an _almost_ ) (and it’s an _almost_ that’s killing him inside) (because she deserves to happy too) (and if he’d stayed on that train with her and let her breathe him in the way he’d breathed her in, she wouldn’t be on the verge of shattering again)

(Felicity’s heart is made of glass and it’s about to shatter on the floor and Barry’s not fast enough to catch it).

Barry thinks back to the fight he’d seen in the original timeline. He hates himself for not getting to say goodbye to her there, much less ask if she was okay. This time it’s going to be so much worse. And this time he had no choice. Is it worse to see her broken or dead? Which is the worse fate given to her by his hand?

( _He’s hiding something_ ) (she had said) ( _I can just feel it_ ) (she had said and Barry had wished his own _Nemesis_ hadn’t been given unto her) (or maybe it’s his punishment to have to sit there and watch and do nothing)

Maybe it’s selfish to think it’s better to have her broken but alive. Maybe it’s selfish to want her in his life. Maybe it’s selfish to need her the way he does. Because he does need her.

He needs her when Iris has pulled away and is right next to him but never really there. He needs her when he’s trying to convince himself he’s in love with the right person even though he’s not to give him some sort of hope that even impossible things can work out.

He needs her alive because he can live his life on that _maybe_. He tells himself that the real path is the one that hurts. Red pill or blue pill, right?

He needs her alive because he reminds her that he’s alive. That this is real life and real life hurts and isn’t easy or safe and it’s never going to be. That he closed the door on any other way of living and he can’t go back.

He wishes he could, though.

They might not be as broken, then.

He might not feel the need to hold her tight while simultaneously not having the ability to. He might not have to watch as the glass tube he’s helped her place herself in fills up with water and he’s not fast enough to save her because _they let themselves do this._

Red pill not blue pill, right?

And while he knows why he can bear to watch her drown herself in something that could kill her, he doesn’t understand how she can watch him do the same.

He doesn’t understand how she can sit there and ask him about Patty and tell him once again, just like she had the other night, that he deserves to be happy.

(Screw his happiness) (they’re in this together) (if he deserves to be happy she deserves to be happy). (She deserves-) (she deserves things he can’t give her).

(Like the truth).

Barry feels his palms grow sweaty around the phone.

It’s been silent for minutes now, Felicity’s long hung up, their goodbyes exchanged the way they always have been, and yet he still hasn’t told her.

(There are a lot of words Barry hasn’t told her)

(Words like _maybe I lied_ ).

But if this is the cross he has to bear to keep Felicity alive, he’s willing to do it.

They can both sit here and watch the other drown and tell themselves it’s for the best. They’ve done the best they could at trying to escape this fate.

(Well, almost everything) (but that almost is long gone now) (isn’t it?)


End file.
